


We Could Save the World for Each Other

by pallasjoanna



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:54:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pallasjoanna/pseuds/pallasjoanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They always have each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Could Save the World for Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the song Ordinary by Train.

—-

—

-

 The spirits back at the oasis really should have given him some warning, like:  _oh, if you see two kite-shaped spirits wrestling with each other, just don’t mess with them._ But Wan has never really been the type for small dreams and long-term thinking, so in the end, when he decides to go with her, he never really considers about how he’ll get tangled up in things greater than him.

And for a spirit of light and peace, Raava is not always kind. She talks about humans dismissively and calls him human as if it is the worst thing to be. She is never cruel, and they settle in some kind of truce— the uneasy kind, all nerves and stilted conversations on his end— but it’s a start.

 

—

They decide to travel by day for all the practical reasons involved, plus the fact that dark spirits are more likely to attack them at night. They settle down in a clearing, and Wan starts a fire. Raava lights up the whole place without it.

He sits beside Mula. “We could take turns keeping watch,” he says to her from across the clearing.  “Do you want me to go first?”

Raava looks down at him—she was looking at the stars, he realized. “Spirits do not need sleep, human.” And then she looks back up at the stars again. It’s a beautiful night, with barely any cloud in the sky and the wind blows crisp against his face.

He tries to sleep but can’t. There’s the scratch of the mat against his skin and the occasional insect bite, along with the feeling that his current position on the ground is just cramped. Once, he thinks he hears something that can be something more than just wind and trees. It’s only them, and he sees Raava floating in the already light sky. Mula snorts when he nearly falls off of her in the middle of the day.

—

Next to fire, his second-most favorite element is air.

Back when he was still the boy who stole bread and ran through streets, there was always a point when he would end up on the rooftops, because hey, for all the heavy-handed blustering of the guards, not many would bother to go up there. And when they do, Wan kept running to the ledge as he clamped down on his fear and jumped.

He still remembers the wind rushing through his hair, and his mind blank with something that’s part excitement and terror. Now, he feels a swoop in his stomach as he lifts himself up into the sky. The sunset washes the whole world in red and orange from here and the world has never seemed so vast.

“You took your time,” Raava states when his feet finally touch the ground again. She floats above Mula, swaying in the gentle breeze.

“Well…it’s just that I’ve never traveled this far before.” He puts a hand on his neck. Being around the spirit of light and peace still makes him nervous, even if she accepts his presence now. Probably. At least now she doesn’t call him ‘human’ like it is the worst thing to be. “And we don’t always get a chance to admire the scenery like this because of Vaatu and everything.”

Raava points a bright tendril. “The nearest Lion Turtle is to the north. After that, then we should be able to meet the last on the way to the spirit portal.” A pause. “Perhaps if we travel the whole day tomorrow, we will be able to make up for lost time, or—“ she turns to him. “Will you be alright with that?”

“I’ll be fine.”

—

 “Hmm” is all that Raava says when he dumps another wave of water on himself for the sixth? seventh? time. He glances at her. She doesn’t seem to be affected much by his lack of progress, but she doesn’t have any facial expressions that he can pick out anyway. He likes to think that she’s amused by all of this.

“That is not how you bend water,” she says.

 “So…a little advice, here?” he asks, blinking the water out of his eyes.

She floats over from her rock to him. “I cannot bend the elements, as you know.”

He sighs—“Worth a try,”—and then proceeds to fail at bending water all over again. It’s just so frustrating! Whenever he thinks he’s got it, the water falls back into the river or goes off into the wrong direction.

“Too much force. And flair,” she finally says. “Water is not air or fire. It flows.” It might just be a trick of the nonexistent wind that always surrounds Raava, but she wiggles and sways her tendrils as a suggestion.

“Thanks.”

“Hmph.”

He chuckles and tries again. Slow and steady first. He exhales when the water stays in the shape he wants and goes in the right direction this time. At least, for about ten seconds before it splashes toward her.

It only takes a lazy whirl for her to avoid it. “Vaatu is not one for patience,” she tells him dryly. “But it’s still something.”

—

There are days when Wan feels that this, their journey, is normal, like he just woke up one day and went. Simple as that. They fall into a routine. As Wan wakes up, Raava goes down from whatever place she gazes at the sky. He and Mula have breakfast, and she sometimes asks about the flavors of food which can be challenging to describe to a spirit. The rest of the day, they travel, and in Wan’s case, he trains. Occasionally, they run into a dark spirit, but he’s ready with his fire, and he anticipates the heady rush of warmth and energy when Raava passes through him. When they have peaceful clear nights, Wan wonders about things, like how his friends are back home (both human and spirit) and if he really can help set everything right. He usually falls asleep quickly.

It’s easy, when he forgets that there’s a giant spirit of chaos waiting for the both of them at the end of it.

—

The flash of dark comes out of nowhere, throwing him into face-first into the dirt. He’s on his feet in a moment, but it zips away before he can properly aim at it. His ears strain to pick up the slightest sound.  It reappears behind Raava, claws raised menacingly.

"Duck!" he yells and he launches a fireball at it.

She flies past him as the dark spirit vanishes into air. He knows it’s gone.

But he jolts in surprise when he feels another presence behind him—stupid, how stupid of him—but when he turns, Raava flicks a tendril and the second spirit sinks back into the earth.

She doesn’t move from her spot, pausing as if deep in thought.

"I know I should’ve guarded my own back, but we’re even.” He shrugs, fully expecting her to deliver a lecture about it.

Raava stares at him, like she is trying to figure something out. “I was going to thank you after.” She continues down the road with Mula, and Wan catches up to them.

—

He can feel his body straining under Raava’s energy, all the force of the four elements in his grasp but threatening to wrench free from him. If he can only hold it together—no, he has to hold it together, for the sake of his friends fighting on opposite sides of the battlefield.

“Wan!”

In the end, he’s only human. He thinks,  _that’s the first time she called my name_ , and the world turns black.

“I was wrong about humans,” she tells him later, her small form cradled in his arms. He remembers the smoking ruins of the forest and feels the weight of everything on his shoulders. Raava rests a small glowing tendril on his cheek, as if she can hear his thoughts.

—

Shivering becomes a constant state for him the closer they get to the southern portal. It’s a relief when they finally see another lion turtle city; their supplies are a bit low, and he needs more clothes for this kind of weather.

He chats to the vendors while picking out food—“Where are you from?” “Er, from another Lion Turtle city.” “You should be careful with all the spirits out there.” “Don’t worry.”—and debates whether he should get tea leaves. That would mean buying another teapot if Raava doesn’t want to—or can’t—get out of hers.

“What do you think?” He turns to Raava who is in Mula’s saddlebag, but she’s not there. People look at him strangely as he calls her name while turning the teapot over.

His heart sinks. Where is she? He would’ve noticed if someone was trying to kidnap her for whatever reason, and Raava would’ve never allowed that in the first place. The only other option is that she went somewhere of her own choosing, but he knows she can barely float these days. Mula nudges him in the side, sensing his worry.

He concentrates. He can still feel her presence in the city at least. They get out of the crowded market, with Mula trying to sniff her trail—if spirits really had a scent, Wan couldn’t tell. He’s starting to get worried, really worried, when a loud cry cuts through the air.

“I want my mama!”

Beneath the shade of a tree, a little girl bawls her eyes out as a woman tries to comfort her.

Wan finds his eyes drawn to the latter, although he can’t place why. He can only see the side of her face framed with long flowing black hair.

“Perhaps we can find your mother if we walked around, little one.” The girl seems to calm down at that.

The woman’s eyes dart this way and there, as if looking for help, and she meets his eyes. Her blue ones are not uncommon in this city, but it’s the shade and the regal set of her face that makes the breath hitch in his chest, long before he looks at the markings on her forehead.

“Raava?”  _Wait—how?_

A series of emotions flashes through her face. (It’s disconcerting when all he had to check for back then was the tone of her voice.) “Wan,” she breathes out in relief. “I was going around the city when I found her. A little help, if you please.”

They find the mother soon enough and she thanks them over and over again, Raava especially, as she hugs her daughter.

“It was nothing,” Raava says stiffly. “We are glad to have helped.”

The both of them remain quiet after that. Before exiting the city, Wan goes back to the market. Raava is determined to look everywhere else but at him.

She stands out even in this form. Markings aside, she moves with a grace that makes her look as if she is gliding on air, and her eyes glow in a way that isn’t even close to human. Her clothes even billow with a wind that isn’t entirely there.

Even without those, the way she just is tells him that she’s still Raava through and through.

“So,” he starts while he examines a scarf. “I didn’t know you could do—that.”

“You never asked,” she retorts. “And I never had any reason to.”

For whatever reason, she’s prickly about the topic so he decides to stop there. “Okay. I was worried though,” he admits, passing the coins to the vendor and wrapping the scarf around her neck. “But you seem fine enough.”

She huffs. “You need this more than I do.” Despite having the same number of layers as her, he’s the only one shivering right now.

He takes the scarf back.

Raava tips his chin to face her. Her hand feels warm. “I apologize for having caused you to worry, but I was doing it to… better understand humans.” A glow rises to her cheeks before she turns her back to him.

It goes both ways. Maybe he understands her a little more, too.

—

“Interesting.”

Wan looks to see what caught Raava’s attention. His eyes fall on a couple kissing, and heat rushes to his cheeks. He yanks on her sleeve as subtly as he can and whirls her around. “It’s not polite to stare.”

“What difference does it make? They hardly noticed me,” she says, but she stops. “I was just wondering: how is it considered to be affection if you are sucking your mate’s face?”

He chokes back laughter. “When you put it that way… it’s just what we do, I guess.”

“Hmm.” A little crease forms in between her eyebrows as she is deep in thought. He’s tempted to press his finger there. ”Do you have a mate back home?” she asks suddenly.

There were a couple of girls who looked his way back in his city once or twice, but that was about it. “No. Why do you want to know?”

“I realized that I hardly know anything about you before you became involved in all this. I am not one to speak on this matter, since the only ‘companion’ I’ve had for millennia was Vaatu, but don’t you miss any friends or family?”

He thinks of Jaya and Yao, whether they are still alive or not. He thinks of Aye-Aye and the other spirits back at the oasis and how much power Vaatu has over them now. “I do miss them,” he admits. “And they’re part of the reason why I’m going with you to the Harmonic Convergence.”

Now that he thinks about it, what would the both of them be after that? Do they just go their separate ways?

“I see.” Raava’s face is carefully composed. Is she thinking the same thing?

She ducks behind a wall as she transforms back into a spirit.

—

“The stars have always been like this for ten thousand years.” She curls up in her teapot. “I cannot remember much longer than that.”

Sometimes, in those moments when he didn’t have any practicing to do, he would stare at Raava staring up at the night sky, wondering what she wanted to find there. She probably knows that, too, but he’s not going to volunteer that fact.

“We made shapes out of the stars back in my city.” It was a favorite past time of his when the guards weren’t busy chasing after him at night. His friends could get wild and ridiculous with whatever figure they saw. He lifts a finger and looks for the familiar patterns. “Like that one.”

“Where?”

“The one just above us. It looks like a platypus duck.” If he twists his head and squints a little, the tail will be over there.

“…That looks nothing like one!” Raava actually sounds indignant for the sake of the platypus duck-shaped stars. “It’s a flying lemur or perhaps another sort of flying creature, but not that.”

A laugh escapes him, one that uses all the muscles in his stomach and leaves him breathless. “What—do you— _gasp—_ have against platypus ducks?” He sits up on the mat and turns to face her.

“I have nothing against them, only your horrible imagination.”

He can’t help it. He laughs again. Raava crosses two tendrils over her body in an almost-human gesture as she shakes her head.

“I’ll never understand you,” she mutters fondly.

—

“Wan, you need to sleep.”

“Wait, I just need to get this technique right—“

“That is what you said at sunrise. You cannot see the sun now at this time of day.”

“But what if Vaatu suddenly attacks us, or something? “

“…It is still next week, and even he cannot go against the ancient rules.”

“Just a while longer—“

“ _Sleep_. Now.”

—

At any moment, Wan feels like jumping out of his skin. Nervousness and energy thrum in his veins, and he can’t stop tossing and turning to surrender to sleep. Raava sighs, a habit she picked up from when she took on her human form, but she doesn’t seem much better off. He gives up trying to and just stares up at the stars instead. Hopefully, he doesn’t fall asleep in the middle of the Harmonic Convergence.

“It’s tomorrow, huh?”

“Very observant,” Raava says. “And with that, I say you need to get some rest.”

“ _You_  need to rest,” he retorts. “Spirits don’t need it as much as humans, but you still need to.”

“I am not the one championing the spirit of light and peace against Vaatu.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, all the possible outcomes running through his mind, and he fights the urge to vomit. They don’t need to spell it out for each other, the many ways it can end, the many ways it can go wrong. “What if I mess it up?” he finally asks her. “What if I mess it up like I did before?”

“This—sounds like a conversation we should have had a long time ago.” Raava rises, extending a tendril to his cheek. He touches it with a tentative finger. “I do not have any grudge against you for what happened back then, and where has all your confidence gone? You have mastered the elements, and whatever happens tomorrow, I will not blame you.”

He may lose, and the world may fall to darkness for another ten thousand years. And she—“And you—“

“And what about me?” Raava sounds confused.

“You’ll die.”

“Did I not say that I cannot die? Or be destroyed?”

There’s still that poisonous mixture of fear in the pit of his stomach and that painful clench in his chest that he really can’t explain. He cares for her, he cares about her, and the thought of losing her makes the world go out of focus for a while. His eyes widen.

Raava seems to stare into his eyes, trying to read whatever she is looking for in there. 

She hops out of her teapot and starts to glow. “Foolish. How idiotically foolish—“

“What” is all he manages to stutter out before warm lips press against his. Her hands settle on his arms, firm but gentle, but he can feel the stiffness of her body melting away, how she pulls away after what seems like forever.

“I’m sorry,” she starts.

And Wan decides to take another leap, so he leans forward and kisses her back. He would’ve done this sooner, he realizes dizzily, but he doesn’t really know how to in her spirit form.

They pull away to catch their breath. Raava puts a finger to her lips, as if she didn’t notice them before.

“You always think of others first. It’s idiotic of you to think about what may happen to me. What about you? What if you—“ She jabs a finger into his chest, and her eyes shine in the firelight. “What if you will die, Wan? You’ll never come back, no matter how many tens of thousands of years will pass. And I have come to care too much about you to ever bear losing you.”

He lets out a watery chuckle, the feeling in his chest a little lighter now, and hugs her close to him. “I’ll still do everything to protect you tomorrow.” If there only is a way for time to just stop, stop in this moment with the both of them under the stars, he’ll take it.

“And?”

“I’ll try not to die.” His heart seems to beat louder in his chest.

 “You better.”

—

 Despite what he promised her, there’s still that doubt in the back of his mind. However, he means every word when he tells Vaatu that the only way to her is over his dead body. As it turns out, he can’t even do that.

He lays at Vaatu’s feet, reminded with each taunting word, each wave of pain wracking his body that he’s only human.

(He holds out a reaching hand.)

But he’s not alone. They always have each other.

“ _Raava!_ ”

—

The fight leaves him tired like the dead, but he hopes this isn’t literally the case because of many things. He doesn’t know where Mula leads him to, only that it’s flat, it’s not wet or muddy. He immediately collapses onto it.

There were times before when his dreams consisted of a black endless space and he would wake up after what seemed like a horribly short time. This time, after a while of black black and black, he feels like he’s falling. Flashes of color zip past him, all the colors of the southern lights and more. A splash of green surges up to meet him, and he feels his feet land on grass. The sensation is oddly real for a dream. His surroundings reform into a meadow.

Raava sways to the wind, her light brightening the place even more than the sun.

“Where are we?” he asks.

“It’s not a dream if that is what you think.” The meadow in engulfed in a warm blinding light as Raava changes into human form.  

His chest grows tight at the sight of her smile, her eyes saying a million things at the moment. And it occurs to him that she’s safe, she’s here and they both just saved the world, but he doesn’t really know how to say it without jumbling everything, so instead, he pulls her into a hug and he buries his nose into her hair.

“I love you.”

She laughs against his shoulder. “We  _are_  bonded forever. And—“ she whispers it in his ear, like a secret she wants to keep for themselves. “I love you, too.”

If it’s with her, this spirit who shares half of his soul and has his heart in her hands, ‘forever’ sounds just right.

**fin.**


End file.
